


Fathers and Sons

by Feriku



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Adoption Discussions, Domestic Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Minor Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Past Abuse, Post-Book 2: Crooked Kingdom, Protectiveness, but definitely still present, protective Wylan, supportive Jesper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-05 04:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feriku/pseuds/Feriku
Summary: Things have changed a lot in Wylan's life. He has power now that he never had before. Enough power to protect people. When he learns about another mercher's son whose situation sounds a bit too close to his own, Wylan begins investigating to see if this child needs to be rescued.





	1. Chapter 1

Wylan had never quite adjusted to dealing with other merchers, but it was a part of his new life he grudgingly accepted. It was easier when Jesper came with him, but although he did occasionally, there were many times when Wylan had to face the Merchant Council on his own.

This was one of those times.

He sat through the meeting and tried not to zone out as Amerik Middel went on and on about the state of the market and changes he saw in the future, most of which were absurd. Wylan had thought as much when Jesper read him the necessary briefings the night before, and said so when this rambling began, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect.

Listening to this nonsense was technically what he should be doing, but it was easier to tick down the time until the meeting would end and he could return to Jesper. Jesper always made his return home worthwhile, especially if it had been a particularly bad meeting.

“—_and_,” Middel said, a sharper note entering his voice, “with these considerations in mind for the future, we also need to discuss what to do about Mister Holtman’s business. I believe I am most qualified to take over after him.”

That stirred Wylan out of his idle fantasies about what Jesper would do with him when he got home. Business deals happened all the time, but no one usually was bold enough to outright suggest taking over someone else’s business, especially not the business of a Councilman like Vidar Holtman.

Holtman looked just as stunned. “Excuse me?”

Wylan didn’t know him well. He was a longtime member of the Council, but he hadn’t been one of his father’s friends and he’d made no attempts to approach Wylan since he’d taken over his father’s business. In fact, Wylan had the distinct impression Holtman disliked him. He’d reached out to several merchers in an attempt to make allies, and Holtman was one of the few who rebuffed his attempts entirely.

Middel gave Holtman a cold look. “No one lives forever. Have you given any thought to the future at all? Someone will have to take on your business eventually, and you have no _legitimate_ heir.”

The other mercher’s voice was quiet, but dangerously so. “What?”

“There’s no point in pretending. You can’t hide it forever. Tomas can’t be your heir; he is completely illiterate.”

A jolt went through Wylan. Another mercher’s son couldn’t read?

The world wobbled around him. Someone else couldn’t read, and it was being revealed in front of the Council.

That had always been one of Wylan’s greatest nightmares growing up. He fought so hard to prevent his secret from getting out. Even now, he had to hide his inability to read. And here he was, watching the nightmare come true for someone else.

“From my understanding,” Middel said, “he can barely even _count_. He’s stunted at a level far below his age, and someone so worthless cannot—”

Holtman stood up. His face had gone completely white. “Excuse me, Mister Middel, but I must have misheard you. For a moment, I thought you called my son worthless.”

Wylan gripped the edge of his seat to keep his hands from shaking. Holtman was angry. He could imagine how angry his own father would have been if Wylan’s secret was revealed at a meeting of the Merchant Council.

“Don’t pretend it isn’t true,” Middel said. “My son was at that festival last weekend you made the unfortunate mistake of sending Tomas to. He told me everything. Since you have no competent heir, I’m prepare to offer you a very good deal.”

Holtman’s glare suggested he’d rather strangle the other man. “I will not make a deal with you. How I handle my business—and my son—is my own affair, and I’d advise you to keep your nose out of it unless you want _your_ business to be blacklisted by everyone in Ketterdam!”

Then he stormed out of the room.

Wylan stared after him. Hushed murmurs filled the silence in his wake. Everyone was talking about Holtman, about his reaction and whether or not he really had enough influence to carry out such a threat against Middel, but Wylan could only think of his son.

He’d never met Tomas Holtman, couldn’t remember even seeing him. Their families had never had much contact, and once Wylan took his father’s place, Vidar Holtman’s hostility had kept distance between them.

Wylan never minded that before. Anyone in his position would make enemies. So what if Vidar Holtman was one of them?

But now it wasn’t just about him.

He couldn’t stop imagining his father in Holtman’s place. He knew what would have happened if Jan Van Eck heard another Councilman reveal Wylan’s inability to read in front of everyone. He’d threaten that Councilman, certainly, but most of his anger would be for Wylan.

He would have blamed Wylan for letting the secret get out.

He would have hurt him.

Shouted about the shame Wylan had brought upon their family.

Told Wylan he’d be better off dead.

Maybe even…

Wylan gritted his teeth and forced himself back into the present. This was not the time to wonder if his father would have decided to kill him right then for such an incident, and it hardly mattered anyway. He was free of his father. It was Tomas Holtman who was in danger now.

He got up and hurried after Holtman.

The older man hadn’t gotten far, but his quick, angry strides took him further away from the building with each second.

“Mister Holtman!” Wylan shouted.

Holtman paused. He turned and looked back at Wylan.

This was a terrible idea. The situation had stirred too many familiar memories already. If he faced Holtman’s anger head-on, he might fall to pieces. Yet it was all he could think to do. He needed to ask… Or maybe he needed to plea.

Maybe he would simply _tell_ Holtman to love his son for who he was, and that would be the end of it.

Before Wylan could say anything, however, Holtman’s furious gaze froze him in place. A vein twitched in the mercher’s jaw. Without a word, he turned and continued down the street, and this time Wylan didn’t try to call him back.

#

Jesper was waiting when he got home, but his smile faded the moment he saw Wylan’s face. “Rough meeting?”

He managed a nod.

Jesper slipped his arms around him from behind and brought his lips to his ear. “Let’s go take your mind off of it, then.”

Wylan blushed, but although he followed Jesper up the staircase to their bedroom, he didn’t think he could actually enjoy himself. For once, he didn’t want to forget. He couldn’t forget someone else’s danger.

So when they got inside and closed the door, he sat down on the edge of the bed and held up his hand. “I’d rather just talk.”

Jesper sat alongside him and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

With a weak laugh, Wylan relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth and security of his closeness. “Is it that rare for me to turn you down?”

“Actually yes,” Jesper said with a teasing smirk. “Usually you come home from these meetings so needy, I half-expect you to tear my clothes off.”

“Jesper!” But despite Wylan’s blush, he couldn’t entirely deny it. Coming home to Jesper’s arms was what made those meetings bearable, and if Jesper was offering, Wylan was happy to accept.

“So I figure it has to be something pretty bad if the meeting got you too worked up for that,” Jesper said, his voice serious again. “What happened?”

“I’m fine. It’s someone else I’m worried about.”

“Who?”

After a deep breath, Wylan explained everything. He shivered a little when he described how it made him think of the past and what would have happened to _him_ in that situation, but Jesper’s arms around him kept him feeling safe.

“You’re worried about the boy,” Jesper said.

“Yes.”

“What is Vidar Holtman like? Is he the sort of man who would… hurt his son?”

Wylan shook his head. “I barely know him. He doesn’t like me.”

“That’s a strike against him right there.”

“Besides,” he said, “that doesn’t matter. Anyone on the outside would have sworn Jan Van Eck was a good, upstanding man who wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

The embrace tightened. “And you wouldn’t have said anything against him back then.”

Wylan rested his head against Jesper’s shoulder. Jesper had helped him pick apart the lies that wove their way around his heart, the lies that told him he was stupid and worthless and deserved what he got.

The memory of Holtman’s anger flashed through his mind.

He wondered if Tomas had a Jesper to help him through the darkness.

“Holtman was so angry,” he said. “When I tried to stop him and he looked at me, I thought he might…”

“…do something I’d need to shoot him for?” Jesper asked.

Wylan elbowed him. “You can’t shoot members of the Merchant Council.”

“I can if they hurt my merchling.”

“Not even then.”

“What if they’re hurting another merchling?”

The sentiment was well-appreciated. Wylan lifted his head and kissed Jesper’s cheek. “Shooting him will definitely be a last resort.” Sometimes he had nightmares that his father managed to get out of prison, but he had a feeling if that ever did happen, Jan Van Eck wouldn’t last long before a tragic accident befell him.

“Then what are we going to do?” Jesper asked.

“I know what to look for,” Wylan said softly. “I’ll recognize if Tomas is… living the way I was.”

Jesper kissed him. “You’re amazing.”

“What?”

“A lot of people in your position would take this time to hide and keep a low profile rather than risk attracting attention, but you’re ready to fight the good fight for a boy you’ve never met.” Warmth filled Jesper’s gray eyes. “I love you.”

“I couldn’t have come this far without you,” Wylan said. “I love you too.”

“So what’s the plan?” Jesper asked. “Spying on the mansion? Breaking in and rescuing the kid?”

“I thought we might start with something more tactful, like inviting them over for lunch.”

“My way is more fun,” Jesper said.

“Your way is also more illegal.”

“Details, details.”

“Besides, we don’t know yet if Tomas needs to be rescued or not.”

Jesper shrugged. “If Holtman dislikes you as much as you say, do you really think he’ll accept an invitation for lunch?”

“Maybe not,” Wylan said, as he considered the other mercher’s attitude toward him. “We’ll start with that, but if he refuses, we’ll have to come up with something more subtle.”

Some sort of societal event, perhaps, that the Holtmans would attend. Ideally one where they could observe Tomas alone. Wylan would never have let his mask slip in public while his father was present. Since Middel had mentioned Tomas being at a festival and his wording suggested Holtman wasn’t with him, it shouldn’t be impossible.

Of course, now that his secret was known, Holtman might consider it too much of a risk… but he couldn’t keep Tomas hidden forever…

Jesper’s eyebrows twitched, and then he grinned.

“What?” Wylan asked.

“I like your scheming face, merchling. It looks good on you.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I have good news,” Jesper said, “and I have bad news.”

Wylan glanced at the pile of correspondences and letters in Jesper’s hands. “Holtman?”

They’d put stage one of their plan into effect the very next day after their discussion. A bit of research revealed Holtman’s wife had died years ago—another unfortunate and disturbing similarity, although they’d found nothing to suggest it was a lie—and so they sent an official request inviting Vidar and Tomas Holtman to lunch.

“He responded,” Jesper said.

That would be the good news, then. “What’s the bad news?”

“He politely declines your request for lunch and claims he has far too much work at the moment.” Jesper cleared his throat. “He also said that if this is related to business, he’d be happy to set up a meeting with you at your office.”

Judging by Holtman’s attitude toward him, Wylan doubted he’d be happy about it at all, but that didn’t matter at the moment. “In other words, no social events that involve Tomas. Is he trying to keep me away from him?”

“Could be.”

Wylan was willing to give Holtman the benefit of the doubt, but this response was suspicious enough to make him even more worried. “Let’s not reply just yet. It’s time for the next stage of our plan.”

#

Wylan had to admit he wasn’t on top of the Ketterdam social scene, but stage two required that to change. Over the next week, he hosted dinner parties and similar gatherings, emphasizing that his guests were encouraged to bring their children as well.

It probably helped his standing with the other merchers, but neither Vidar Holtman nor his son made an appearance.

As the guests left, Wylan slumped. Keeping a happy expression on his face while worrying about Tomas Holtman left him exhausted.

Jesper came up behind him and squeezed his shoulders. “You’re doing fine.”

“It’s not enough.” Wylan turned to face him and pressed his face against Jesper’s arm. “We can’t force them to come.”

“Time for the third stage?” Jesper asked.

“What _is_ the third stage?”

Jesper’s arm slipped down to his waist, and he tugged Wylan against him. “While you’ve been hosting dinner parties and playing the gracious host, I did some research.”

“Research?”

“You said the other mercher mentioned a festival his son saw Tomas at. I did a little snooping and found out it was a music festival.”

Wylan straightened and looked up at him. “A music festival? Really?”

“Yep. Musical performances throughout the day, that sort of thing.”

He rested his head against Jesper’s chest, comforted by the closeness. “I see what you’re thinking. If we host our own music festival, maybe Tomas will show up.”

Of course, if it had been _his_ father, he wouldn’t have allowed Wylan anywhere near another event like that. He’d have been trying to quell the rumors—assuming Wylan had survived that long.

“Or,” Jesper said, “we could jump straight to the part where we break into the mansion.”

Wylan kissed him. “Let’s give this a try first and save that for stage four.”

Because while it was a bit unusual, a music festival was the sort of thing he just might be able to pull off.

#

“Well?” Jesper asked. “Is he here?”

It had taken some doing to organize an impromptu music festival, but Wylan had enough influence to both make it possible and publicize it. He brought in not only performers, but also music instructors to meet with prospective students. The amount of power he had frightened him sometimes, if only because it reminded him of how much control his father once held.

Therefore, the street outside their mansion was currently filled with young men and women, mostly Wylan’s age or younger, there to socialize and improve their standing.

He never knew how to interact with them. On one hand, they were his peers. On the other hand, he was in charge of his own business, rather than just being his father’s son. To make matters worse, he hadn’t known any of them before.

Still, he’d done his part. He’d even played his flute to kick off the festival, with Jesper cheering him on from the front of the crowd.

Then he’d turned it over to the other performers so he could continue his mission.

If Tomas Holtman was present, Wylan would observe him and maybe gently coax him into talking. If he wasn’t there… well, then his fears of Holtman isolating him would be even stronger, and he would need to take action. He disliked using his power, but he _would_ do it to protect an innocent.

Wylan scanned the group for anyone with Holtman’s features.

“Why don’t we split up?” Jesper asked. “I’ll check that end of the street while you cover this one.”

“Thank you.” Wylan paused, then stretched up onto his tiptoes to kiss Jesper’s cheek. One of the perks of having authority was that no one could tell him not to kiss in public.

Jesper’s grin provided only a moment of warning before his hands were on Wylan’s waist and he leaned in for a full kiss on the lips instead.

“In front of everyone?” Wylan protested, although he didn’t really mind.

“Gotta make sure they know I’m taken.” Jesper winked, then strolled off to begin his search.

Wylan rolled his eyes, but the public kiss had left him feeling warm and loved and confident. Jesper had probably done that intentionally; he knew him far too well. Wylan set out in the other direction, offering polite greetings to the guests he passed.

Then shouts got his attention.

No, not shouts. Jeers.

His heart skipped a beat, and he hurried toward the sound.

A group of five children had another boy surrounded.

“Is it true you can’t read, Tomas?”

“My father says you’re a moron.”

“Prove us wrong, Tomas! Write something for us!”

Their jeers passed through Wylan’s mind with echoes of his father, and the same protective instinct that drove him to begin this venture surged up in him. He didn’t want anyone to know the pain he once felt, and he had the power to protect people now.

Wylan walked toward them. “What’s going on here?”

They stopped and looked at him.

Ghezen, they were all around his age. Nevertheless, he kept his gaze and voice steady. “I said, what’s going on?”

“We were just playing,” the nearest boy said uncertainly.

Wylan glanced from them to the boy in the center. Tomas Holtman sat on the ground, his once-fine suit covered in dirt and grass stains, and he was crying.

“Leave him alone,” Wylan said.

Being on the periphery of his nightmares was surreal. So many times, he’d feared this situation would happen to him, that he would be the one at the center of a laughing, mocking crowd of people who had learned the truth.

“Why should we?” a girl asked.

One of the boys kicked a rock in Tomas’s direction. “He can barely even speak. He’s not worth anything.”

Wylan’s blood boiled. “I am Wylan Van Eck, and you are on my property. I organized this event, and I can have you thrown out. Leave him alone. _Now_.”

Once, that would have carried no weight. Things had changed. His name was known in the city; Ketterdam knew he controlled everything his father once had.

The children backed away.

Wylan crouched alongside Tomas. “It’s okay. They won’t bother you anymore.”

The other boy lifted his tearstained face, then scrambled backwards through the dirt.

Wylan held up his hands. He knew what it was like to be afraid. “I’m not going to hurt you. Your name is Tomas, right? I’m Wylan.”

Still nothing more than wide-eyed silence, but at least he’d stopped running.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” Ghezen, he was the one who had set this up. He wanted to help the boy, not put him in a position where he’d be hurt. He should have known better. He should have known what they’d do. Wylan took a deep breath. “Everything’s okay now, I promise.”

Tomas lowered his head and looked down at his hands.

Wylan glanced around for Jesper. He always knew just what to say. He could pull Wylan out from the darkest of moods. But Jesper was still at the other end of the street.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” Wylan asked, although since Tomas seemed nearly nonverbal, that might be a difficult matter.

Tomas shook his head.

But was that because he wanted to stay, or because he didn’t trust Wylan, or because he didn’t want to go home? This wasn’t as easy as Wylan had expected it to be. He could tell Tomas was fragile, hurting from the things that had been said to him, but he couldn’t tell if it was just the children or his home life as well. Couldn’t tell if Tomas was simply a quiet child or if he’d been beaten down from years of abuse.

Nearby whispers met his ears. “Why would Wylan Van Eck talk to him?”

“Doesn’t he know the rumors about Tomas?”

Tomas’s face fell. He could hear them too.

“Hey,” Wylan said, “it’s okay. It’s okay if you can’t read and write.”

Cautious hope lit up the boy’s gaze, and he made eye contact for the first time. He gave Wylan a shy smile.

Wylan smiled back encouragingly. “I bet there are plenty of things you’re good at.” This was a tactic that always worked well for him, when Jesper reminded him of all the other skills he had.

But Tomas’s face crumbled again, and he shook his head.

Wylan hesitated. At the meeting, Middel had said many things about Tomas. He’d claimed he couldn’t do math either and that he was intellectually stunted. If those things were true, Wylan certainly didn’t want to increase his pain by reminding him of them.

“You like music, right?” he asked instead.

Tomas slowly nodded.

“I do too. I played my flute earlier. Did you hear?”

Another nod.

This was going better. Wylan smiled. “Would you like to learn how to play music someday? There are instructors here who can teach you.”

Tomas furrowed his brow, but didn’t answer.

“Like he’d be able to do that,” one of the other children said loudly. “He’s worthless.”

Even if he didn’t have any artistic _or_ academic talent, he was _not_ worthless. Wylan turned to give them a piece of his mind, when the girl who had spoken suddenly yelped.

“Here comes Tomas’s father!”

They took off faster than when they learned who Wylan was, this time scattering in all directions. Wylan looked down the street, where Vidar Holtman was hurrying toward the festival.

He felt a sickening sense of déjà vu as he wondered what would happen when Holtman reached his son. If it had been Wylan crying in the dirt, Jan Van Eck would have been furious. The insults and fury were bouncing around in his skull already. This was why he had set this up, to see if Tomas was okay, but…

Wylan scrambled to his feet. “If you ever need help, Tomas, you can come to me.”

Then he hurried away nearly as fast as the children had. He couldn’t be there for this. Couldn’t stand to be there and see—and hear—

He stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. The entire point of this was to find out if Tomas needed help. Wylan took a deep breath to compose himself. Then he turned to face them again, so he could see what happened when Holtman arrived.

One way or another, he needed to know.


	3. Chapter 3

Wylan waited on the edge of the crowd bustling around the music festival and watched as Vidar Holtman finally reached Tomas.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he expected to happen, but it wasn’t for Holtman to drop to his knees in the dirt and hug his crying son.

Even back when his father loved him, Wylan didn’t remember him ever getting his suit dirty for his sake. He couldn’t imagine it. But Tomas was sobbing into Holtman’s shoulder, and the mercher didn’t appear to be doing anything aggressive, just holding him while he cried.

At last, Holtman rose and helped his son to his feet. He waved his hand out at the gathered guests, but Tomas shook his head and clung to his leg. Holtman put his arm around Tomas’s shoulders and they started to walk away, and Wylan couldn’t help but stare.

“What happened?” Jesper’s voice behind him made him jump. “Is that them?”

“That’s them,” Wylan said.

Jesper walked to his side and looked after the departing duo. “Nothing to worry about, then?”

“He comforted him. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he just kept holding him and reassuring him. He must know what it was about; he knows people _know_, but he was comforting him over it.”

Jesper eyed him with raised eyebrows. “Merchling, it concerns me how much you’re marveling over a father loving his son.”

Wylan sighed. “It’s different, Jes. This is…”

But he couldn’t say what he was thinking. If he said Tomas was like him, Jesper would remind him that the fault had been with Jan Van Eck, not with Wylan. That there was no cause for Wylan’s father to have treated him the way he did. And Wylan knew that.

There was more to it, though. Something he didn’t quite know how to put into words.

“I’ll admit,” Jesper said, “I’m as surprised as anyone to find out another mercher besides you has a human heart.”

It wasn’t that.

Wylan thought about the boy looking up at him with his tearstained face, and the father embracing him, and the accusations at the meeting.

“Wy? You okay?”

He gave himself a shake. “I’m fine. Just thinking.” He turned back to Jesper. “Come on, we need to see this festival through.”

#

The day after the music festival, when Wylan and Jesper sat down together in the office to go over their business documents and correspondences, Jesper’s eyebrows lifted.

“What is it?” Wylan asked.

“Vidar Holtman sent another message. He would like to call on you at your earliest convenience.”

#

When Vidar Holtman arrived the next day, he wasn’t alone. Tomas looked much as he had at the festival, albeit not crying and in a clean suit. He clung to his father and hid behind him when Wylan greeted them at the door.

“Thank you for coming,” Wylan said, stepping back to let them in.

Holtman shook his head. “Thank you for your invitation.”

But although he entered the mansion, Tomas stayed behind in the doorway. He looked like he might start crying again. Holtman offered Wylan an apologetic smile and quickly returned to his son. He crouched in front of him and said something, too quiet for Wylan to hear.

Tomas shook his head.

Holtman put his hands on his shoulders and said something else, but Tomas shook his head even more firmly than he had the first time.

If he was that opposed to coming in, he didn’t have to. Even as Wylan hurried forward to say as much, however, Holtman said something to him again of which he only caught the word_ promise_, then stood up. This time, Tomas shuffled alongside him into the mansion.

“I apologize for that,” Holtman said.

“It’s no problem at all,” Wylan said, the warmth in his voice meant more for Tomas than for him. “I don’t believe we’ve ever formally met. I’m Wylan Van Eck, and this is Jesper Fahey.”

Holtman shook his hand and Jesper’s as well. “I’m Vidar Holtman. You’ve already met Tomas. Tomas, this is Wylan Van Eck. You met him the other day. He owns this house.”

Wylan reached out, and Tomas gave him a tentative handshake.

“And this is Jesper Fahey,” Holtman said, “Mister Van Eck’s… husband?”

Jesper grinned.

“Not yet,” Wylan quickly said.

Jesper’s grin broadened.

Oh Ghezen, had he just said _yet_ out loud, and not just to Jesper, but in front of Holtman too? Judging by the delighted look on Jesper’s face, he would probably bring this up later.

“Mister Van Eck’s fiancé,” Holtman concluded.

Oh, Jesper would _definitely_ bring this up later. Wylan opened his mouth to clarify their relationship, but decided against it.

It was interesting that unlike other members of the Merchant Council, Holtman didn’t seem bothered by Jesper. Most people in their social class either ignored Jesper’s presence entirely or referred to him as Wylan’s _lover_ in a tone that suggested they fervently hoped it was a temporary fling. Holtman jumped straight to _husband._

Jesper squatted in front of Tomas. “Nice to meet another merchling. Do you prefer Tomas or Tom? Tommy?”

The boy stared at him with wide eyes, then looked up at his father.

“He prefers Tomas,” Holtman said.

Wylan barely kept himself from narrowing his eyes.

Jesper did much better and just turned his smile back to Tomas. “How old are you, Tomas?”

Tomas hesitated, then lifted both hands, then glanced at his father again.

Holtman raised two fingers, and Tomas lowered his hands before doing the same.

“Twelve?” Jesper asked, which earned him a vigorous nod. “Twelve’s a good age. When I was twelve, I got in all sorts of trouble. My da still likes to tell the story of the time I got stuck in an apple tree.”

Tomas giggled, and Wylan breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He was glad Jesper had decided to join them for this. He had a way of putting people at ease that Wylan never could quite manage.

On the other hand, _twelve_? Wylan’s first impression of Tomas was that he was a much younger child, but seeing him cleaned up and composed, his stated age was more apparent. Wylan thought back to the accusations at the meeting. He hated to think it, it felt cruel, but Tomas did seem younger than his physical age.

“I’ve had lunch prepared,” Wylan said, “if you’d like to join me.”

Holtman nodded. “Is it acceptable for Tomas to eat with us?”

“Of course.” That could be either a good sign or a bad one. It might be good that he wanted his son around, but it also might mean he wanted to control him by not letting him out of his sight.

“I understand you helped him the other day,” Holtman said as Wylan led the way to the dining room. “I wanted to thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Wylan said. “When I saw what was happening, I had to step in.”

“You’re not much older than him.”

“I’ve had to adjust quickly,” he said.

Holtman lifted his hands. “I meant no offense. You must have had a hard time taking over your father’s business so suddenly.”

Wylan inclined his head and left it at that.

While they had a large table in the dining room, there also was a smaller one they normally ate at, and that was where he had lunch set up. Soup and sandwiches seemed like a safe bet, and as they sat down, Wylan eyed Tomas for any indication of how he was feeling. He still couldn’t determine if his nervousness was due to being shy or something else.

“You have a beautiful mansion,” Holtman said.

“Thank you.”

“Is business going well?”

“Yes,” Wylan said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

As Holtman continued to talk about business, Wylan could practically see Jesper zoning out, and Tomas looked much more interested in playing with his food than anything else. He had lifted half of his sandwich into the air above his soup and was bobbing it around like it was a boat.

“The music festival you held was impressive,” Holtman said. “I understand you performed at it yourself.”

Wylan opened his mouth in surprise for a moment before he regained his composure. “Yes, that’s right.” Tomas must have told him about it. “I enjoy music.”

“He’s very good with a flute,” Jesper said.

Wylan gave him a warning look, just in case that was intended to precede an entirely inappropriate joke, but although Jesper winked, he kept his mouth shut.

Holtman smiled. “I missed your performance, but perhaps I’ll get to hear you play sometime.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Wylan said.

He glanced over at Tomas to see if he wanted to add anything. Although the boy was still playing with his sandwich, he’d finished his soup entirely.

“Would you like more soup, Tomas?” Wylan asked.

Tomas looked at him and nodded.

“I’ll get it for you.” Wylan picked up the bowl and walked toward the kitchen, aware that both Holtman and Jesper were staring at him, but while it might have been unusual for a mercher to personally serve a guest lunch, he felt it was important in this case.

He wanted Tomas to see him as someone kind, someone who could be trusted, someone he could go to if he needed help.

Wylan fetched the soup from the rather confused servants in the kitchen and then returned to the table. “Here you go.”

With a happy smile, Tomas accepted his bowl back.

Holtman cleared his throat. “Tomas?”

The boy glanced at him, then back at Wylan. “Thank you.”

It was the first time he’d heard the boy speak, and the words were soft and slightly slurred. Wylan wondered if that was why he didn’t talk more often. “You’re welcome,” he said with another kind smile.

Then he went back to trying to figure Holtman out.

Wylan didn’t think of himself as a cynical person. He liked to think he was still optimistic and saw goodness in everyone. But a member of the Merchant Council with a son who reportedly couldn’t read and write was just a little too close to Jan Van Eck for Wylan not to be suspicious.

No one had known how his father treated him. He kept it a secret, kept a respectable public image. However, his father would never have tolerated him playing at a lunch like this—Tomas had taken a bite from the bottom of his sandwich and was now dramatically sinking the “ship” toward his bowl—if he’d even been willing to take Wylan along at all, yet Holtman prompting his son to thank Wylan for the soup was the only sort of correction he’d seen.

“I apologize for declining your earlier invitation,” Holtman said. “After what happened at the meeting, I was reluctant to agree.”

“I can imagine,” Wylan said coldly.

In contrast to his behavior toward Tomas, there was still an air of hostility about Holtman despite all of his polite words, and it lingered even as their conversation over lunch continued. He _disliked_ Wylan, that much was clear. It was as if he was waiting for an opportunity to turn on him. If he did, he’d find out Wylan was not a child who would back down anymore.

Still, it made him wonder. Why? What had he ever done to Vidar Holtman?

Tomas abruptly hopped down from his seat and tugged Wylan’s sleeve.

Wylan turned his attention to him. “Yes?”

In the corner of his eye, he could see Holtman tensing. Wylan’s protective instincts rose up again. If that man did anything to hurt or insult this boy in Wylan’s presence, he couldn’t be held accountable for his actions.

“Wanna ‘splore,” Tomas said.

Wylan blinked. “What do you want?” he asked, trying to keep his voice as kind as possible.

“Wanna ‘splore,” he said, a little more insistently.

Splore?

Wylan glanced at Jesper, who looked puzzled. He didn’t look at Holtman. He couldn’t bear to see his father’s expression on someone else’s face. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Tomas, who was looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Explore?” Wylan asked after a moment. “You want to explore the mansion?”

Tomas nodded rapidly.

“I don’t have a problem with that. I can ask one of the servants to show you—”

But Tomas shook his head. “Wanna _‘splore_. Like a, like a, like a”—he stopped and screwed up his face as though having trouble thinking of the word, while Wylan waited and gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile—“_‘splorer._”

On one hand, Wylan wasn’t sure he could say no to that hopeful gaze, on the other hand, he didn’t think letting the boy loose to explore his home unattended was a good idea.

He finally dared to glance at Holtman, but the mercher’s expression was unreadable. Nevertheless, he hadn’t objected.

Jesper rose from the table and walked to Wylan’s side. He murmured, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” and left the room.

That settled that. If the boy wanted to explore, he’d get to explore.

“Go out there and be the finest explorer you can be,” Wylan said, fighting the sudden inexplicable urge to ruffle the boy’s hair.

Tomas beamed and dashed for the door after Jesper.

With a deep breath to steel himself, Wylan turned to face Holtman.

The older mercher was staring like he’d never seen anything like him before.

“Sorry,” Wylan said, relieved he at least didn’t look angry, “I probably should have gotten your permission before letting him go.”

Holtman shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Playing explorer is one of his favorite things. And with Mister Fahey watching out for him, he should be fine.”

Yet he was still giving Wylan that baffled look.

“Is something wrong?” Wylan asked.

“No, just… you’re nothing like your father.”


	4. Chapter 4

Wylan opened his mouth. He didn’t know what to say. Similar comments had been made about him many times by other merchers, but they meant it as an insult. It didn’t sound like an insult coming from Holtman, and it didn’t sound like he was talking about Wylan’s business skills.

And it gave new meaning to his attempts to keep Tomas away from Wylan.

“Did he hurt Tomas?” Wylan asked, a little too sharply. Surely even his father wouldn’t sink low enough to hurt another mercher’s son.

“Jan always acted like Tomas was invisible,” Holtman said. “When Tomas told me you helped him, I thought he must have heard your name wrong. I couldn’t believe a Van Eck had comforted him.”

Wylan took a deep breath. “I am a very different man from my father in many ways.”

“I’m glad for that. And I’m glad you were there for Tomas at the music festival. What… happened that day?”

“The other children were making fun of him for not being able to read and write,” Wylan said softly.

Holtman sighed. “Ah. So everyone went home from that meeting and told their families the new gossip, I see.”

“Are you upset that people found out?”

“I’d rather it not have happened this way but it was only a matter of time. Tomas is old enough to want to try new things and make new friends, and I can only shield him so much.”

Wylan didn’t know what to say.

He remembered his father’s explanations about how Wylan couldn’t spend time with other children his own age because if they learned about his affliction, they would mock him. Yet while his father’s solution was to restrict him from such things no matter how much he wanted friends, it seemed Holtman’s was to encourage Tomas and hug him if it went poorly.

“Maybe it’s better it happened in a Council meeting,” Holtman said. “This way, I was able to prepare him.”

Wylan flinched involuntarily. He’d been “prepared” for many things in ways that further isolated him from the rest of the world. Prepared to never be able to attend university. Prepared to never take over the business. Prepared to never find love.

At least Holtman didn’t seem to have noticed his reaction. “I hired the best tutors—”

Old fear rose up alongside the newfound protectiveness. Wylan struggled to breathe normally.

“—and tried everything, but it didn’t help. We’ve more or less given up on that now.”

Dark memories stirred in the corners of his mind of his father’s intended cures for his condition, along with all his anxiety and shame. “What will you do?” Wylan whispered.

“What do you mean by that?” the mercher asked, his tone icy.

“What if nothing changes?” Wylan asked, unable to forget how his father’s disappointment in him had grown and grown as it became clearer he would never learn how to read, until he finally discarded his son like so much trash. “What if it’s like this forever?”

Holtman glared at him. “As long as he’s happy, that’s all that matters. I can do that for him, if nothing else. I can make sure he’s happy.”

Wylan blinked, startled by the admonishment.

“The only thing I worry about,” Holtman said, “is how cruel the world can be. I worry that someday the world’s cruelty will take away his happiness, and I won’t be there to help him.”

Suddenly the tension Wylan had noticed throughout their visit took form in a different light. It wasn’t aggression toward Tomas, as he’d feared, but the same aggressive protectiveness that had made Holtman threaten to destroy the livelihood of another Councilman—not because he’d learned and revealed the truth, but because he’d _insulted_ Tomas.

So Wylan smiled. “He has you. I’m sure he knows you love him, and that will help him accept he has nothing to be ashamed of, no matter what anyone says.”

Holtman looked at him as though really seeing him for the first time. “I—yes, that’s exactly right.”

“He’s interested in music, you know,” Wylan said. “He might want to try learning an instrument.”

“I’ll look into it.”

Wylan wondered if it would change anything, if Tomas didn’t have musical talent either. If they never found an area where he excelled. He wondered what Holtman would do then. Where was the line drawn?

The door opened, and Tomas bounded back into the room. Jesper entered a moment later and sat down with a nod to Wylan. Tomas looked happier than Wylan had seen him yet, and instead of returning to his seat, he went to Holtman and climbed into his lap.

That pretty much settled it. Past the age of eight, once it became clear Wylan’s “affliction” wasn’t going to get any better, he would never have dreamed of trying to sit in his father’s lap, let alone expect affection from it.

Holtman put one arm around his son and smoothed his hair out of his face. “Well, Captain Tomas, did the expedition go well?”

He nodded.

“Did you find any treasure?”

Another nod.

His eyebrows lifted. “And?”

“Left it,” Tomas mumbled with a blush, and his father gave such an approving nod, Wylan wondered if there had been concerns in the past about Tomas taking “treasures” he found while exploring.

“Any monsters?” Holtman asked.

Tomas shook his head.

“We all value your efforts, Captain Tomas.”

The boy beamed, and Holtman shot Wylan a slightly defensive look, as though daring him to comment on this little exchange.

It was the cutest thing Wylan had ever seen.

#

“Thank you, Jes,” Wylan said once they were alone. “You’re good with kids. You’d make a wonderful father.”

“Is that in the immediate future?” Jesper asked. “Or did Holtman pass the test?”

“What test?”

“Your test. Or should I be looking into adoption proceedings?”

Wylan rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to adopt Tomas.”

“You were going to jump straight to kidnapping?!” Jesper asked, hand over his heart in mock horror.

“No!”

“Wy, your body language throughout all of lunch was screaming ‘if you hurt this child, he’s my son now.’”

“That’s ridiculous,” Wylan said.

Jesper’s amused smile only broadened. “Fine, Wy. Look me in the eyes and tell me if you suspected Holtman was abusing Tomas, you wouldn’t be preparing a guest room and making plans to get him safely away from his father right now.”

That was… Well, he couldn’t actually deny it. The thought had crossed his mind. He’d been prepared to take Tomas’s protection into his own hands. But… not permanently.

“I couldn’t adopt a child,” Wylan said.

Jesper’s smile faded. “Okay, I guess we’re a little young, but in a few years—”

“I can’t.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but what do you mean you _can’t_?”

Wasn’t it obvious? “I can’t be a father,” Wylan said. “I don’t know how.”

“You’ve met my da. Now you’ve met Holtman.”

He shook his head. “That’s not enough.”

“Enough for what?” Jesper asked.

“Enough to make sure I…” Wylan turned away. He didn’t like thinking about this. But he had to confront it if Jesper had it in his head that one day they might raise children. “Enough to make sure I did it right. To make sure I didn’t end up like _him._ If I hurt our child the way my father hurt me, I’d never be able to live with myself.”

Jesper stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. “You’re nothing like your father.”

It was the same thing Holtman had said. Wylan believed it, tried to work toward it so often. Yet still, when it came to this… “I don’t know how to be a good father. I’d end up like him someday, I know it.”

“Why?” Jesper asked.

“What?”

Jesper slowly turned him around to face him, and Wylan didn’t resist. “Why are you so sure that would happen?”

Wylan looked down at the floor. “Because he’s the example I grew up with. He’s still in my head as the idea of what a father is.”

“You don’t have the capacity to abuse a child. You’re one of the kindest people I know.”

“That’s not the same as being a good father.”

Jesper laughed. “Wy, all I can imagine is you going in the opposite direction and spoiling our kid so much it would be up to me to apply any sort of discipline.”

“Now I know they’d be doomed,” Wylan said with a weak laugh.

“What, you don’t think I’d do a good job?” Jesper laughed again, but then his humor faded and he ran his fingers through Wylan’s hair. “I promise I’d handle it, Wy. If that’s why you’re against it, if that’s what you’re afraid of, I promise I’d handle any discipline.”

And that was good. He could trust Jesper to know what to do. Trust him to know how far a parent was supposed to go. Trust him to follow the good example he had in Colm.

But…

Wylan’s eyes burned with unshed tears, and he blinked them away. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Jes.”

Because that wouldn’t be the right answer either. Wylan couldn’t be half a parent, acting as their child’s friend while leaving all the responsibilities up to Jesper. He needed to know how he was supposed to behave and what he was supposed to do and where… where the line was.

“You’re good with the servants,” Jesper said after a moment. “You’re probably Kerch’s kindest employer, but you step in when things get bad. That’s what—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.”

The two things weren’t the same at all, no matter how much Jesper tried to conflate them. Wylan sighed and pulled away.

“Wy…”

“I’m fine,” he said. “This just isn’t something I can do.”

He should have just said he didn’t want to raise children and left it at that. Jesper would respect that, even if it was something he truly wanted—which apparently it was, judging by how he’d argued. This way, he would want to ask about it again.

And Wylan had to admit, there was a tiny spark inside of him that liked the thought of caring for a child. Seeing Holtman and Tomas together, he’d felt a longing for that sort of love, but also to show someone the same compassion. The happiness on Tomas’s face when Wylan brought him his soup and told him he could go exploring… it was wonderful.

“Do you know what the ‘treasure’ was that Tomas found?” Wylan asked.

Jesper looked at him, and for a moment Wylan thought he was going to argue again, but instead he said, “There’s a set of nesting dolls up in the attic that he looked at for a long time. Probably those.”

“He went into the attic?”

“He went _everywhere._ At one point he looked at a window and I was trying to figure out what to do if he decided to climb up onto the roof, but then something distracted him and he stayed inside.”

Wylan didn’t miss the note of fondness in Jesper’s voice. “I might give him the nesting dolls as a present.”

“That’s a kind thing to do.”

He half-expected Jesper to say something about it being fatherly, but of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t start up the argument again so soon. And that was good. Mostly. Except Wylan almost wanted to argue with him about it. Wylan couldn’t be a good father. He needed Jesper to see that.

Because until he did, part of Wylan would wonder if maybe he had it all wrong after all.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day, Wylan had wrapped up the nesting dolls from the attic and was on his way to the Holtman mansion. He didn’t have an invitation, but after how well things had gone at lunch, he didn’t think Holtman would be displeased to see him.

His argument with Jesper still weighed on his mind. Jesper thought Wylan could be a father. A _good_ father. But…

Wylan forced those thoughts to the back of his mind as he neared the mansion. This wasn’t the time. He didn’t need to get himself upset right ahead of his visit.

He knocked on the door, and a maid opened it after a moment. “Yes?”

“I’m Wylan Van Eck,” he said. “Could I see Tomas? I brought something for him.”

“Come in, please.” She stepped aside, and he walked into the mansion.

Inside, the entry hall was largely like his home, but there were notable differences. Things that stood out to him in particular, like a stuffed toy lying in the corner. Little signs of a child’s presence that would never have been tolerated in his childhood.

For a moment, he wondered what would have happened if someone came by with a present for him when he was a child. He shook the thought away.

“Would you wait in the parlor?” the maid asked.

Wylan nodded. “That’s fine.” Present in hand, he followed her into the parlor and sat down on the couch.

“This should just be a moment,” she said.

After she left the room, Wylan looked at the present in his hands. While he’d wrapped it, he’d briefly imagined what it would be like to someday wrap a present—maybe a birthday present—for his own child. He wanted to blame Jesper for those thoughts, but it wasn’t Jesper’s fault. It was all on him.

Something inside of him wanted to raise a child. Especially if it meant adopting someone who needed a good home. He wanted to bring hope to those who had none. He wanted to be everything his father wasn’t.

A soft sound made him realize he wasn’t alone anymore. He looked up. Tomas stood in the doorway.

“Hi Tomas,” Wylan said with a smile, his gloomy thoughts banished for the moment. “Did you enjoy having lunch with us yesterday?”

Tomas nodded and walked over to the couch to join him. He seemed much more comfortable approaching him than he had at the music festival, possibly in part because he was in his own home.

“I brought something for you.” Wylan held out the package. “It’s a present.”

The smaller boy scrambled up onto the couch cushions alongside him and accepted the present. He opened it quickly, and when he revealed the nesting dolls, his eyes grew huge. “My treasure!”

Wylan laughed softly. “I heard a rumor you liked it, so I decided it would be yours from now on.”

Tomas held onto the dolls and bounced up and down. “Thank you!”

Ghezen, if Wylan had seen Tomas like this from the start, he never would have been so worried about him. He still seemed a little shy, but much happier and comfortable here, even willing to speak to Wylan.

Satisfied with the state of things in the Holtman family, Wylan stood. “I should—”

But Tomas held up one finger.

Wylan paused.

Tomas started to walk out of the room, but turned back and held up his finger again.

“You want me to wait?” Wylan asked. “I’ll wait.”

Tomas beamed and raced out of the room with his nesting dolls. Wylan sat back down, not sure what this might be about, but happy enough that he’d made an impression on Tomas as someone who could be trusted.

The boy returned a few minutes later with a small case and sat down next to Wylan. He opened it and pulled out a trumpet, which he held up with a smile.

“A trumpet?” Wylan said. “Is that yours?”

Tomas nodded. “After lunch we went, we went, um…”

When he paused, Wylan remembered his hesitation the previous day when trying to think of the right word and tried to give him the same encouraging smile he had then.

“…shopping and bought it.”

“That’s wonderful,” Wylan said.

He’d told Holtman he thought Tomas might be interested in learning music, but he hadn’t expected them to act on it so quickly.

Tomas held out the trumpet. “Teach me?”

Wylan looked around, then realized the question was directed at him. “Wait, you want _me_ to teach you?”

He nodded.

“No, I can’t—I only know how to play the flute—and anyway, I don’t know how to teach—I’ve never taught anyone anything, and this really, really is a bad idea.”

Tomas’s smile faded. Looking crestfallen, he lowered his head and started to shuffle away off the couch.

“No, wait.” Wylan couldn’t stand to see that look on his face. “I can’t make any promises, but I can at least get you started.”

The smile returned, and Tomas immediately lifted his trumpet and blew into it as hard as he could.

Oh. This might be painful.

“Here,” Wylan said, noticing that Tomas’s fingers were on the wrong valves, “that’s not how you’re supposed to hold it. You should hold it like this, like—”

And for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

He was trying to teach this boy something, and he was about to tell him he was doing it wrong, and suddenly all Wylan could hear was the memory of his father’s voice shouting at him whenever he failed. No, he had to get out of there, he couldn’t bear to mess this up and ruin the happiness that this child had somehow, impossibly, wonderfully found—

“Wylan?” Tomas peered up at him with a worried expression.

With a jolt, Wylan returned to the present. “I’m sorry.”

Tomas tilted his head and held out the trumpet, and Wylan stared at him for a moment before realizing he was still waiting to be told how to hold it right.

“Oh.” Wylan swallowed hard. “Um.” He felt like he was shrinking into a much tinier version of himself. “Hold it more… like this…”

He did his best to show Tomas how to hold the trumpet, and the boy carefully mimicked him, then smiled.

Wait… He was happy?

He wasn’t upset that… that Wylan had to tell him he was doing it wrong?

Wylan managed a tentative smile in return. “Do you want to keep going?”

A happy nod was his answer.

“Oh. Okay. Let’s start with the basics…”

#

Twenty minutes later, Wylan was a bit surprised no servants had come running to see what all the screeching was.

“You’re doing much better,” Wylan said, which was probably true even though he felt like he was going deaf. “Now you press down on these valves, and that’ll change the way it sounds. Depending on which valves you press, it’ll determine which note you play.”

He’d already explained that three times, but early on he realized he was trying to explain music at a higher level than Tomas was ready for, so he backtracked to go more slowly.

Tomas pressed in one of the valves and blew into the trumpet as hard as he could.

He definitely had that part figured out.

Wylan wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t know much about the trumpet, or if it was because Tomas was so new to it, or if Tomas didn’t have a future as a trumpet player, but they weren’t making much progress beyond a loud, sustained note.

On the other hand, Tomas seemed to greatly enjoy those loud, sustained notes and appeared to be having the time of his life.

Sometimes Wylan had to correct him on what he was doing wrong.

And miraculously, he didn’t suddenly become his father and turn into an abusive monster.

Wylan doubted he could teach Tomas to play the trumpet, but all in all, it was going much better than he expected it to.

“Here, why don’t you try another note—”

Which earned him another full blast of the trumpet and Tomas giggling in delight.

“You’re very enthusiastic,” Wylan said weakly. “That’s good. Enthusiasm is good.”

Tomas beamed and did it again.

Oh Ghezen, what had he done? “Maybe… maybe lower the volume just a bit… Try to be a little softer… please…”

He abruptly realized they weren’t alone. Vidar Holtman stood in the entrance to the room, watching them with a fond smile.

“Ah!” Wylan stood up.

Tomas got up too. “Papa, Papa, look!” He blew into the trumpet as hard as he could.

“Very good,” Holtman said, with polite applause. “Do you mind if I borrow your teacher for a moment?”

Tomas shook his head.

Wylan looked at Holtman. “You want to speak to me?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“All right.”

Holtman glanced at Tomas. “Keep practicing while we’re gone.”

Was that _really_ a good idea?

As they left the room and continued through the mansion, Wylan got a better idea for just how well the sound of the trumpet carried. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about this.”

“I don’t mind the music.” Holtman smiled. “He’s really enjoying his new trumpet. Thank you. You’re good with children.”

Wylan shook his head.

“I hope you don’t mind that I watched you. The way you were helping Tomas was just so sweet and—”

If he said _fatherly_, Wylan was going to scream. “No, that was nothing, it was just that he asked me, and I felt bad saying no, but really, I’m not good at being a teacher or anything like that, it was just because he asked.”

Didn’t anyone in this world understand that Wylan was definitely not suited to being a father, even if he sometimes wanted to be?

Holtman was giving him an odd look.

Wylan cleared his throat. “Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Here, let’s go into my office.”

Following Holtman past his office door took all of Wylan’s courage. Too many dark memories began with him stepping into his father’s office. Even knowing they weren’t the same, the thought of sitting on the other side of that desk while the mercher sat behind it made him lightheaded.

The feeling lessened somewhat when Wylan took a step inside and saw that in addition to all of the normal things found in a proper mercher’s office, Holtman’s was also decorated with a number of colorful stick-figure drawings that must have been done by Tomas.

Wylan sat down across from Holtman and looked at those drawings to remind himself that Holtman was nothing like Jan Van Eck.

“Mister Van Eck—”

“You can call me Wylan,” he said.

Holtman smiled. “Very well, Wylan. Then you should call me Vidar.”

“All right, Vidar,” Wylan said, flushing a bit as he said it since he couldn’t quite stop seeing the other mercher as an authority figure rather than an equal.

“First, I want to apologize for how hostile I’ve been toward you in the past.” Holtman hesitated, then a darker note entered his voice. “To the best of my knowledge, I told you the truth yesterday. Jan never hurt Tomas.”

Wylan’s gaze snapped to Holtman.

“But Tomas was afraid of him. He never told me why. So we kept our distance, and when you took over, I erroneously assumed you would be the same.”

“I… I see,” Wylan said.

Had Tomas Holtman somehow known what Wylan’s father was like? Despite all the secrecy, had he seen him at his worst?

“I hope our families will be able to get to know each other better now,” Holtman said. “You and Mister Fahey are welcome here any time, and you can always call on us if you need support.”

“Thank you. The same goes for you.” Wylan paused. “If Tomas needs any help, please let me know. I know how hard it can be to… to, well… um…” He cleared his throat. He wasn’t quite ready to tell Holtman he couldn’t read.

Holtman didn’t seem bothered by his fumbling. He leaned across the desk toward him. “Getting to the matter at hand, I wanted to ask if you would consider being my business partner.”

Wylan stared at him. “What?”

“Amerik Middel is a swine, but he was right about one thing. I need to plan for the future. Tomas most likely will not run the business after me. He’s not even interested, as far as I know. That’s why I need a partner.”

“Why me?” Wylan finally managed.

“You have a good head on your shoulders,” Holtman said. “You’re managing your own business well enough.” A loud trumpet blast pierced the silence of the office, and he smiled fondly. “More importantly, Tomas likes you.”

“He does?”

“He does.”

Wylan sat back against the chair and rubbed his head. “Until yesterday, we’d barely said more than three sentences to each other. You have to admit, this is rather sudden.”

“I know. But I don’t know what the future will bring. There’s a chance Tomas will still need help as an adult. If I were to die and leave him on his own in that case, it would be disastrous.” Holtman lifted his hand. “Not that I think I’m going to die anytime soon. I’m not _that_ old. Still, it would be nice to know my affairs would be managed by someone I can trust. I know you would never hurt Tomas.”

It hadn’t occurred to Wylan that Tomas might need someone to help him even as an adult, much less that Holtman might see Wylan as the person who would treat him right if that happened.

“You don’t need to decide now,” Holtman said. “I know it’s sudden, and like I said, I don’t plan to die anytime soon. Take some time to think about it.”

“I will,” Wylan said. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

More than he realized.

#

Wylan walked back home, instead of taking a carriage. He wanted the extra time to think before he got home to Jesper.

Ever since he met the Holtmans, it was like he’d walked into another world. A world where a member of the Merchant Council could still love a child who couldn’t read, who struggled, who was developing slowly. A world where such a child could be told they had made a mistake, and not be afraid. A world where a powerful mercher could hear his child making a racket and consider it beautiful music.

Wylan looked up at the mansion. His life had changed in many ways, and so had his view of himself. He’d learned two important things, that he was actually smart and that the way his father had treated him was wrong.

But what Jesper probably never realized was that Wylan had begun to conflate the two things. _Because_ he was smart, his father’s treatment of him was wrong. As if, although no one ever said it out loud, his father would have been justified in his actions if Wylan didn’t have talent in other areas. Like the abuse would have been okay if there was more truth in the insults he spewed at his son.

Where was the line? When did it become right? Wylan had been asking himself that in the back of his mind.

He walked up to his own front door and placed his hand on it. Vidar Holtman was preparing for a future where Tomas remained as he was, and his only concern was making sure that he would be happy and safe… and loved. That offer of a partnership had very little to do with protecting his business, and everything to do with protecting his son. There _was_ no line where Holtman would stop loving Tomas, because a parent’s love wasn’t conditional on how smart or talented or capable their child was.

Tomas would never run his father’s business, but Wylan had no doubt that if he was taken hostage, Holtman would give up every cent he owned to get his son back safely.

Wylan opened the door and walked inside. “Jesper?”

“There you are.” Jesper walked into the room. “You were gone longer than I expected. Did everything go okay?”

“Yes, it did. Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Of course.” Jesper walked to his side and wrapped his arm around his waist. “What’s up?”

Wylan rested his head against Jesper’s shoulder and thought about his feelings when he helped Tomas, and the affection he’d seen between the Holtmans, and his new understanding that the elusive line didn’t actually exist. He took a deep breath. “So, about the idea of us raising a family…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was a bit different than my usual Wylan/Jesper works, particularly due to the lesser emphasis on their relationship, but it all started when I was thinking about how it would really do Wylan a lot of good to see more examples of good fathers. Then I started thinking about how the "you deserve love and also it turns out you were a genius all along" stories can sometimes carry the unintentional implication that the character being a genius is *why* they deserve love. With those two things in mind, this story began to take shape.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!


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